


Before it Mattered

by ConfessionForAnotherTime



Series: Failures [1]
Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Blood, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-11
Updated: 2014-08-11
Packaged: 2018-02-12 17:26:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2118474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ConfessionForAnotherTime/pseuds/ConfessionForAnotherTime
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A memory of a less fatal failure</p>
            </blockquote>





	Before it Mattered

‘Failure.’

Allison wound the bandage around her battered hand.

‘I can’t believe I let myself get hurt.’

Crimson began to seep through the sterile white. She winced as she applied pressure to the gash, hissing in response to the potential break underneath. The metallic crinkle coupled with plastic freed the single-use morphine pack. Brushing the chopped blonde fringe from her eyes, she felt the cool release of pain spread from her hand up her arm and seep into some of her broken form. She was too hurt to continue the process with her other hand, her thigh and lower back. The bullet that has grazed her hip revealed another bullet buried near it. The pack purely took the edge off enough and cut the pain for now.

‘Too much pain to try to dig it out,’ she thought to herself, vision hazing. Her hand flopped onto the cool tile after she sank to the floor and lay on her back. What little pain that was dulled by the partly-effective morphine was overcome by the pain still dominating her in the rest of her body.

Her mind started to swim.

‘Leonard.’ Her eyes unfocused as the light fixture blurred into an orb.

She was limp and barely coherent when Leonard found her sprawled on the floor. Her pulse was steady under his touch and her eyes followed him as he came into her room. Blood had begun to seep from the small hole in her hip, soaking her fatigues and leaving a smear on the floor.

“Where’s the blood coming from?” he asked.

“Hip,” she stated, motioning.

“This is going to hurt.”

Without giving her much time to think about how much it would hurt, he tore into the wet fabric of her fatigues and dug his finger into the bullet hole. Allison yelped her disapproval, gritting her teeth in response. Leonard grasped the small metal slug buried there, dropping it on the ground next to her. After covering the wound with a gauze, he went to work on the other scrapes, gashes, and holes.

“How do you manage to get into so much trouble, Allison?”

She managed a weak shrug. The “training” today had been intense. A mistake on Allison’s part had opened her up, figuratively and literally, to a storm of physical and mental tortures in order to harden her to the horrors she may face in the battle field. Before, she found she didn’t have to use morphine at all after training. Now, they had become routine, regardless the severity of her injury. Much of what she wanted to be blocked out was the mental tortures she was put through in training. The morphine helped with that, as she refused to talk about it.

Leonard noticed over a dozen scrapes and bruises on her as he undressed her in preparation to sponge away the dirt and grime of training.

Allison managed to murmur a thank you before hissing further disapproval as he moved to clean the hole in her hip.

“You’re too good to me,” Allison told him through gritted teeth, pulling herself up to help.

“You mean too much to me for me to let you go now,” Leonard replied, dressing her hip properly.

Her arms found his neck as he scooped her up. A few short steps brought them to her hard bed. She pulled her thin blanket up around her, more for comfort than warmth. Leonard pulled a chair close, encasing her good hand in his own.

“Why are we even here?” he whispered, the question meant more for himself.

“I’m here because I want to be here. You’re here because someone just couldn’t live without me,” she snarled in reply.

“Why do you have to be like that?”

“It’s the truth!”

“That doesn’t mean I want to hear it.”

“You need to hear it, Church.”

“Now I know this conversation will go nowhere.”

“We only talk in circles because you don’t know how to let go.”

“Some things are too good to let go.”

She turned away from him, yet did not unclasp her hand from his.

“Why do you push me away?” he questioned.

She turned back to look at him, her eyes shining. Wincing, she pulled herself up and hugged him.

“Is it all a test?” he asked, gauging her reaction.

“However much you need me, I need you more.”

He pulled her into his lap, the chair protesting. He brushed the blonde hair from her neck and kissed her.

“I know you need me. You just won’t let anyone see that.”

“You know I love you. Why is it anyone else’s business?” she replied with a scoff.

“It’s not,” he replied, conviction in his voice.

“Then why do you act like it is?”

“Because you act so cold to me outside this room. Outside my own room. You act like you forget me once you go past the door. I can’t forget you like that.”

She buried her face in his neck.

“I’m sorry,” she muffled, “the training makes it hard because I can’t let them know what you mean to me.”

He sighed, knowing better than to press this small amount of admission. Squeezing her a bit, she gasped sharply, an invisible bruise making itself known. Curling her legs around his other arm, he lifted her. The look of alarm on her face as she was carried amused him and he whispered a “trust me” into her ear as they passed the threshold of the door and into the hall.

He carried her past the prying eyes and gossiping as they wondered why Leonard was carrying Allison in such a protective manner. The scene was usually reversed, if observed at all. Her hair shadowed her from the outside, feeling nothing more than the heat through his shirt, his heartbeat drowning out their rumblings.

Awkwardly, he opened a door and eased her onto the plush top of a duvet-covered bed. He latched the door behind them, clicking the lock into place.

“This isn’t the infirmary,” she stated, quizzically.

“Maybe not, but there are perks to being the assistant scientist to you squad. Would you rather have privacy and a proper bed or everyone in your business?” he said with a smirk.

“Point taken. Wait, you have your own personal bathroom? Jealous.”

“Why do you think I brought you here? Between the bed, the bathroom and my ability to help care for you, this seemed ideal.”

“Suddenly, I’m glad you don’t forget about me.”

—————————————-

“Don’t forget me.”

“I hate goodbyes.”

“Leonard, please, I’m going to be late.”

Her voice resonated in his mind as the years faded from his youth and he returned to the harsh reality where she had been dead, no longer able to be protected.

“F.I.L.S.S., play the clip again.”

“Absolutely, Director.”


End file.
